Defrost
by ellie-balloo
Summary: Something I've been thinking about for a while. It's cold. It's snowing. They're stuck. Rated M for bad language.
1. Chapter 1

Friday January 8th/Saturday January 9th 1982

"I told you we should've stayed where we were!"

"Would you shut your trap you_ bloody _woman!"

Alex crossed her arms and stared frostily through the iced up windscreen of the Quattro. It was dark and it was cold. Very cold. Even though the tension in the car was producing a lot of heat, it wasn't enough to defrost the car, or the atmosphere. They were in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, in the middle of what looked like turning into a blizzard. All day the radio had been issuing weather warnings telling people to stay at home, not make any unnecessary journeys. And what did Gene Hunt decide to do? Go for a bloody jaunt in the countryside, that's what. "Trust me," he'd said, "We'll be back at Luigi's in time for the Friday night piss-up." And he'd waggled his eyebrows at her and flashed one of his rarely witnessed grins and that was that. And now they were stuck.

Alex's breath misted on the air forming tiny ice crystals that sparkled in the glow from the dashboard. Silence. All she wanted was to be in her flat, marinating herself in bubble bath and red wine. She let out a sigh and hugged her arms closer to her body.

* * *

"Bollocks!" Gene slammed both hands onto the steering wheel, causing Alex to shoot an inch out of her seat in alarm. "That won't achieve anything," she whispered to herself primly, earning a laser beam glare from the Guv. He gripped the wheel, the leather of his gloves squeaking slightly. Alex raised one eyebrow at him, daring him to justify the position they found themselves in. For a moment their stares locked, then Gene growled, turned away and flung open the door. A blast of icy air blew straight from Siberia, filling the car immediately. Bastard! He's left that bloody door open on purpose! Alex grabbed her door handle and yanked it hard. As she pushed, the wind caught the door like a sail and it swung violently open, almost taking her with it. Head down, arms clamped around her body, Alex stamped her way to the back of the car where Gene was wrestling with the boot.

* * *

"Bloody, bastard, fucking piece of German _shit_!" The lock was frozen and he was breathing on the key in a vain attempt to warm it. Alex, who could see he was a hair's breadth from inflicting violence on the closest inanimate object, stepped closer. "Give it to me."

"What? I can't bloody hear you in this sodding wind. Speak up woman!" Hard white specks of snow and ice whirled around them, the dark trees loomed above, creaking and surging as the wind whined.

She gritted her chattering teeth and tried again. "I said, give it to me."

"Why Alex? Why the bloody hell should I give it to you? You're colder than a vicar's cassock. You breath icicles you're so frigid." He ended on a shout.

Alex held out her hand for the key, refusing to allow him to see the effect his words had on her. I will not cry; I will _not_ cry. Gene was glaring around him at the black and white swirl like a bull in the bullring, looking for something to hurt, someone to blame. Eventually his eyes found Alex's. Shame hit him like a fist in the gut. Well done Gene, you bullying bastard; you wanted to hurt her and you have. Silently he handed her the key. She took it from him with the tips of her fingers and placed it on her tongue. Gene was mesmerised. The snow swirled, the wind howled and Alex Drake sucked. He didn't feel quite so cold now. Well, parts of him didn't. "Use your lighter."

"What?"

She took the key from her mouth. "Use your lighter. The lock. Heat it up with your lighter."

"Oh, right, yeah." Gene fumbled inside his coat as it flapped and snapped around him, eventually retrieving the Zippo and holding the flame close to the lock. Quickly, Alex removed the key from her mouth and slid it into place, then stepped back, unwilling to be within touching distance of Gene Hunt the C…… She sighed. Why did it matter so much to her? It wasn't as if he was a real person: as if any of this was actually happening.

Alex was brought back to freezing cold reality by the slamming of the boot. "Come on Bolls! This isn't the time to be standing about outside admiring the view. Get your fat arse back in the Quattro." Gene strode to the driver's side, pulling open the door that had blown shut. Alex hopped up and down on the spot for a moment in an attempt to get her legs working then dashed to the car, flinging herself inside and slamming the door.

* * *

It felt warm in the car compared to outside. All the windows were now coated in snow. Sound was muffled. Alex thought of cosy igloos. Of polar bears tucked away in their snow caves waiting for the thaw. She felt very sleepy. "Right Bolls. Survival kit." Surprise woke her senses a little. Survival kit? He was more prepared than she gave him credit for. Curiously she turned towards him, thoughts of hot tea, hats and gloves, a spare radio, running through her mind.

Gene proudly held up a picnic blanket, a bottle of whiskey and a packet of condoms.

"How could you ever doubt me Bolly-knickers? You should know by now – the Gene-genie is the ultimate boy scout. Be prepared!"


	2. Chapter 2

"So Bolls. What do you want to do first?" Alex Drake looked steadily at her boss waving a bottle of whisky and a packet of condoms at her.

"Both unopened I see," she remarked blandly.

"That's because I have to refresh my supply every couple of week Bolly. I keep running out." Alex raised an eyebrow in reply and turned away, focusing on the blank, white mass that was the car windscreen. She was feeling cold again, breath misting and freezing on the glass. Alex hated the icy chill pinching at her bones. Cold, white memories flickered at the edge of her mind, tweaking panic in the pit of her stomach.

"Whisky."

"What?" Startled, Gene had been watching Alex intently for the last few minutes as she sat in silence staring flatly ahead of her, not responding to his fidgets and sighs. "You asked what I wanted to do first. I choose whisky." She had turned towards him now, shivering uncontrollably, tucking her legs beneath her and holding the leather jacket she wore tight to her body. Her toes were numb and her fingers ached. "And don't presume that means there's a second choice." Gene handed her the whisky and watched for a moment as she struggled to unscrew the cap with stiff hands. Reaching for the bottle he gruffly spoke. "Let me do that."

"I can do it!" Alex snapped in reply, continuing to attempt to get a grip. Shivering so much now, it was all she could do not drop it.

"No you can't Bolly. Give me the bloody bottle before we both freeze to death." After a moment of stubborn hesitation Alex allowed him to take it from her, open it, and hand it back. She clasped the cold bottle with both hands and raised it to her slightly blue lips, filling her mouth with the amber liquid. The warmth of it filled her head, alcoholic vapours curling around the nooks and crannies of her mind. Bliss. Closing her eyes, she swallowed, savouring the glowing slide of it as it lit small fires in her stomach. Without opening her eyes, she took another gulp and sighed. Although her body was still shivering - short, sharp jerky spasms firing through her system, she no longer felt cold.

Slowly, she became aware of the car shifting slightly and a rustle of movement beside her. Opening her eyes lazily, Alex saw Gene Hunt shrugging out of his dark, woolen coat. "What are you doing?" Her voice was a husky whisper, the effort of speaking barely within her reach.

"You're freezing Alex. You haven't got enough clothes on." He paused a moment, holding his coat in his hands. "And that's something I never thought I'd say." He offered the thick, warm coat to her. "Put it on."

"I'm fine. I don't feel cold anymore." Alex's eyelids were drooping now, a languorous warmth slipping stealthily through her body, whispering treacherous thoughts of sleep and oblivion. "Anyway," she murmured. "You said I was frigid, so the temperature should suit me…." Her eyes fluttered closed and her arms fell limply to her sides.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh no you don't. Not again. Don't even think about it." Gene Hunt wrenched at the lever beneath his seat, pushing it back as far as it would go. Flinging his coat over Alex's shoulders, he wrapped both his arms around her and dragged her limp form into his lap. Tucking the edges of his coat beneath his own body, he ensured she was cocooned against the cold. He reached inside the warm cave he had created and began to roughly rub heat back into Alex's body. Curled in his lap like a cat, her breath was warm against his neck, her icy nose pressing against his throat. She was a frozen weight against him. Well, at least she was breathing this time. Manoeuvring his hands from his leather gloves, her reached down to rub her folded legs, her backside, her knees. Sliding his large hands beneath her jacket he attempted to warm her back, her shoulders. Gene's thoughts returned to the frozen moment that haunted him; the moment he was too late to save her, too late to warm her; the moment he lifted her crystallised form into his arms, knowing she had gone, no breath in her body, heart still. Gene Hunt relived that moment frequently. It coloured his dreams, turning them white and blind. The helpless terror of knowing, beyond all doubt, he was too late.

She'd survived though. He'd saved her, or so she said. Gene wasn't convinced – she'd saved herself through sheer bloodyminded stubborness as far as he was concerned. Well, at least this time he was able to do something; he wasn't too late. Beginning to warm now, Alex moved a little beneath his rough touch. Her fingers lightly clasped the collar of his shirt, her nose now touching his jaw as she raised her face in search of fresher, cooler air.


	4. Chapter 4

"Why are your hands inside my shirt?"

Gene froze, in the hope that absolute stillness would convince Drake his hands were elsewhere. It didn't work. Raising her tousled head until her eyes were level with his, she waited for his reply. "Well. The thing is Bolls…" he began. "you were cold."

Alex narrowed her eyes. "Cold?"

"Yes Bolls. Freeze the knackers of a brass monkey, cold." There was a moment of silence as Alex processed his reply. "Well Hunt, you were pretty chilly yourself, but you didn't find _my_ hands down _your _trousers." Gene smirked and opened his mouth to speak… Alex growled. "Don't say one single word," she hissed through gritted teeth. Gene closed his mouth. She continued, "And could you please remove your hands and put them where I can see them. Now."

Sighing, Gene slid his hands slowly along Alex's spine until they reached the waistband of her jeans, where he gently brushed his thumbs along the edge of her skin. They remained nose to nose in the confined space of the Quattro, each one refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Alex was determined Gene Hunt would have not even the smallest glimpse of the effect his touch was having on her.

Noting the pulse that throbbed erratically at the base of her throat, Gene's eyes glinted as he slowly raised his hands in mock surrender, smiling a small satisfied smile as her pupils continued to dilate until her eyes were black pools edged with a mossy green.

Alex was scrabbling to sit upright whilst desperately trying not to place her hands anywhere on Gene Hunt's body. The problem was he seemed so bloody big. He inhabited wherever he was so completely that her own personal space seemed to constrict until it became nothing but a fragile membrane clinging tightly to her body. Shifting in his lap and carefully placing her hands on either side of his head, she used the seat as leverage in her attempt to create some distance between them. She felt exhausted. Weak and exhausted. And slightly hung over. Gene's coat slipped from her shoulders as she finally sat up. Swiftly, he pulled it back into place, tugging at the lapels until she was once again tucked snugly inside. "I am _not _losing you to the cold again, Alex." His tone was gruff, angry even, and he could not meet her eyes, choosing instead to study the fine tracery of frost on the inside of the Quattro's windows. Alex gently touched his face with chilly fingertips. "You won't," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere." The trace of wistfulness so faint, it went unnoticed by them both. "You, on the other hand," she continued with a more doctorly tone. "Are not immune to the cold. Whisky is _not_ central heating and cigarettes are _not_ the equivalent of a coal fire."

"I'm a man Bolls. We don't pass out when we open the fridge door."

"I don't care what you are. Unless we think of a way to keep warm, there's a distinct possibility we could die from hypothermia. People did. I remember."

"Well what do you suggest, Miss Fruitcake?"

Alex thought for a moment. "Back seat!" Gene's hopes rose a little – things were looking up. "If we get in the back seat then we can put your coat and that picnic rug over us both and share body heat." She grinned at him triumphantly. Gene Hunt contemplated her idea for a moment then grinned back at her. "Doesn't that work better when one of you is naked?"


	5. Chapter 5

After both settling in the back seat of the car, Gene cracked open the whisky again and sighed happily to himself. Alex ignored him. He continued to take healthy mouthfuls, following each one with a contented sigh until eventually she snapped. "Oh for God's sake, give me some of that!"

"You know, for a posh bird your manners are atrocious DI Drake." He looked disapprovingly at her, eyes sparking.

"Piss off." She grabbed the bottle from him furiously and took a large gulp. Gene watched with mild amusement as she coughed and spluttered at the fiery liquid burning her throat. "Better?"

"Oh shut up."

* * *

It was a little like being in a cave. Or hiding under the blankets when everyone else on the dorm had gone for breakfast. No sound. No light. The muffled comfort of being enclosed; tucked safely away, hiding from the real world. Alex snorted quietly to herself – real world? What real world? The sharp snap of a Zippo lighter startled her and flickering shadows danced wildly across the whited out windows. The car battery had died some time back and they had been sitting in dark silence ever since. At first, Alex had attempted to keep as much distance as possible between her boss and herself, but found that she was unable to stay totally covered by his coat unless sitting shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh with him. Now she watched the leaping shadows skip around the car, Jack Frost come to dance on their icy graves…

"You're pissed, you are." Gene Hunt was peering down at her, holding the lighter aloft, releasing warm petrol fumes that gave an illusion of heat. The bottle of whisky was almost empty and they both contemplated the last centimetre of golden liquid. "I think we should save this for unforeseen emergencies," he continued.

"That's why you are a DCI," Alex replied with a slightly wonky smile, completely forgetting to be insulted by the slur upon her sobriety. "It's very important to be fully aware of any possible outcomes regarding situations that may arise…" Her head slowly nodded as she tried to regain the threads of her slightly fuzzy thoughts. It continued to nod and tilt until it rested gently on Gene's shoulder. She sighed happily and continued to watch Jack Frost's jaunty jig until, abruptly, the lights went out and darkness descended once again.


	6. Chapter 6

The temperature had continued to drop and Alex could feel the deadly cold creeping under the cover of Gene's coat and beginning to nibble at her bones. Maybe she was dying. Maybe she was already dead. She thought of her daughter, lost and alone with no parents to love her, a childhood just like her own. In the darkness she imagined the ice stitching itself into her skin, burrowing deeper, pricking and pinching its way to her heart where it would slide its threads into each ventricle, wrap itself tightly around the warm beating organ until it struggled, stuttered and finally stopped. Would she die here _and_ there? Would there be two of her in heaven? Or hell…. Alex concentrated on her breathing, each breath was harder to find, as though it had to be dragged out of the cold darkness. The stillness between each one was becoming more difficult to break. It was as though her body was forgetting how to keep her alive and to be honest, breathing was just too much effort, the stillness too enticing.

* * *

"Alex! Shit!" Gene had been sitting in the frozen darkness listening to Alex breathe. It comforted him, the soft whisper of her breath keeping time like the ticking of a clock. Despite his swagger and bluff, Gene Hunt spent most nights alone. He knew there were plenty of women who would like to keep him company, stroke his ego then blame him in the morning when he asked them to leave. It was a mystery to him, why they agreed to his terms, admired his honesty and then thought it didn't apply to them. Thought they could change him, make him into the man they wanted, because they certainly didn't want the man he is.

He would never change Bolly. Everything about her drove him up the wall and he knew she was two sandwiches short of a picnic but nevertheless, he wouldn't want her to be any different. He wanted Alex to be _Alex_, otherwise what was the point?

"Alex! Bolly!" He felt her head loll on his shoulder as he shook her. "You bloody selfish _cow_!" Quickly, he lay her down onto the seat, cradling the back of her head until she rested flat on her back. Placing his fingers against her lips, Gene felt for the slightest murmur of breath. Nothing. He lowered his ear to her mouth, then her chest. Nothing. Why was she so determined to die on him? Why was the coldness so desperate to claim her? Well, the bastard couldn't have her. He'd fight for her and he'd win.

In the inky darkness Gene's fingers found her lips, he tilted her head back and lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were cold marble against his own as he pushed his warm breath into her lungs. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.


	7. Chapter 7

Gene Hunt was beginning to panic. He was running out of options. In the dark cold he continued to breathe for his lifeless colleague. With each breath trying desperately to send a command, an order – he is her senior officer: she has to do as he says.

_Live. Breath. Live. Breath._

He is the boss. In charge. In control.

_Live. Breathe. Live. Breathe._

He raged silently at 'them', at 'it'. You can't have her. You won't have her. I forbid it.

_Live. Breathe. Live. Breathe. _

Inside his own body, blood thundered through veins, his heart banged. An internal storm seethed as he fought against the inevitable.

_Live. Breathe. Live. Breathe._

Seconds passed as hours. Time frozen solid. Black ice.

_Live. Breathe. Live. Breathe. _

**Gasp**


	8. Chapter 8

"Breathe Alex. Again. Breathe." Placing his ear close to her mouth, he searched blindly for confirmation of what he thought he heard. A faint echo of breath from the lifeless form beneath him. Pressing his forehead against hers, he attempted to force his will upon her. "Come on Alex. Breathe. Keep breathing." The whispers of air were erratic, barely there, but she was breathing. Relief surged through his system, draining his body of all strength. Surrendering to the exhaustion, Gene lowered his body until it was resting upon hers, turning his head to lay his cheek against Alex's own, where he could feel the small puffs of air drift across his lips.

After a while, breaking contact with Alex for a few moments, Gene deftly unbuttoned his jacket and then his shirt, before feeling for his coat and pulling it up over their bodies as he draped himself over her once again. The closer his skin was to hers, the more of his own body heat he could give her. He pressed against her gently, sliding his arms beneath her until she was clasped firmly to him.

Gene Hunt drifted into sleep, comforted by the beat of Alex's heart against his own and the soft caress of her breath.


	9. Chapter 9

Alex Drake stirred. She was warm! Smiling to herself, she wiggled her toes, revelling in the simple pleasure of actually being able to feel them.

"You're alive then."

Alex's heart leapt into her throat – the voice was, quite literally, in her ear. Turning her head towards it, she felt herself nose to nose with Gene Hunt. "You know Bolls. If you don't want to be on your own with me, there are much easier ways of getting out of it." Darkness made Alex blind. She struggled to gage the emotion behind his words. Gene Hunt was the master at saying one thing and meaning another. The truth would be reflected in his eyes; eyes that, at the moment, were hidden from her. Unsure of how to respond, she remained silent, slowly becoming aware of the position she was lying in, the closeness of their bodies, the intimacy of their embrace. "Dying," he continued. "Dying is just a bit over the top, don't you think? A simple 'not with a barge pole' should do the job." Anger, she could feel the anger, taste its metallic tang in the crystalline air. Something else, though, was lurking in those words, hiding behind the harshness. "I'm sorry Gene. I don't understand."

"Stop fucking _dying_ on me Alex."

"What?!"

"Twice now. Two bloody times you've given up. Well next time maybe I'll give up too and we'll be done and dusted."

She was confused. "Died? I died?"

"Yes Alex. You died. Again."

Silence as she processed his words, allowing them to fall one by one into her consciousness where they settled and gleamed softly in the blackness. Slowly, she raised a hand to his face, delicately tracing his features, running her thumb over his lips, the tips of her fingers across his lashes. Against her breast she could feel the strong beating of his heart. "You saved me," she whispered, a statement, not a question. "How?"

"I breathed for you Alex. You stopped breathing. Which was against my specific orders by the way, so you're off the team." Her fingers were stroking his hair now, and she smiled in the darkness.

"Off the team?"

"Yes. Off the team."

Alex felt Gene shift in the blackness as he raised himself up slightly until his voice came from above her. "I am your senior officer and I do not allow members of my team to die. So you're off the team."

Sliding her hand to the back of his neck Alex Drake pulled Gene Hunt towards her. She didn't need to see his eyes to recognise the fear and fury in his voice. Big emotions from the man who thought her frigid. Nose to nose once again, Alex bridged the gap and kissed him.


	10. Chapter 10

To kiss in the dark is to lose oneself completely. Sensations rule and nerve endings awaken like anemones in the blackest of oceans, undulating in the surge. In the dark, all are beautiful. Fear and uncertainty recedes until only pleasure remains. The absence of light creates true connections as fingers, lips, tongues explore the hidden realms, realms that are forbidden when illuminated.

* * *

To Gene the darkness was as a blessing. The relief of the last votive candle wavering then dying, plunging him into darkness and finally allowing him to pray. To kiss Alex was to touch beauty and pay homage to a God he hated but pleaded with for release. To have her die in his arms, then live and breathe; then kiss him – that was proof of a higher power. As soft sighs drifted on the air he gave thanks.

* * *

Alex trembled as he returned her kiss. It had been a purely instinctive thing to do – kiss this man, this arrogant, irritating, compassionate, beautiful man who would lay down his life for her without a moment's thought. In the darkness she could make him understand. She could breathe life into _him_, offer all she had and force him to believe in her, to accept what she had to give. She kissed his eyes, his brow, his throat, always returning to his mouth, again and again. See me. Feel me. Love me.

* * *

To kiss in the dark is to lose oneself completely, only to find the missing part of your soul.


	11. Chapter 11

"Have you ever been in love?"

Alex and Gene were lying together on the back seat of the Quattro, wrapped in his coat and the rug, limbs entwined. Alex's head rested on Gene's bare, broad chest, absorbing the heat from his body. Her arms were inside his shirt and her legs were jammed between his, where his warmth seeped into her own bones, despite the layers of clothing between them. In the darkness they talked.

"Have you ever been in love?" Alex repeated, absently stroking Gene's back. He was quiet for a long moment, his hands playing with her hair, twisting it around his fingers and scratching her scalp lightly. Outside snow fell silently, insulating them both from the outside world.

"No."

Alex waited for more, but Gene was not going to expand on the matter.

"No? You can't just say no!"

"Yes I can. I just did. No."

"But you were married!"

"What the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, _usually_, people who get married do so because they're in love." Alex was speaking slowly and sarcastically as if to a child. This man infuriated her beyond reason. She huffed into his chest.

"I don't know what planet you come from Miss Loony Tune, but here on planet Earth the last thing on folk's minds when they get hitched is love. Lust maybe, money probably, but not love."

"How can you say that? You _must _have loved the ex-Mrs Hunt at some point! You must have planned on spending the rest of your life with her, having children with her, growing old together?"

"The ex-Mrs Hunt and I didn't really discuss things like that. In fact, we rarely spoke. Before our blessed nuptials we shared a limited vocabulary that involved rude words and instructions. After our nuptials the vocabulary was pretty similar but had an entirely different meaning. Then we got divorced."

Alex ignored the swift, sharp stab of jealousy at the implications of his answer. It was like picking at an unhealed wound – it hurts but you can't leave it alone.

"What was her name?"

"Mrs Hunt."

"Please tell me."

"No."

"Just her initial?"

"Mrs G Hunt."

"That's yours not hers!"

"That was her name on the gas bill."

Alex ground her teeth in frustration. She should just leave it. He obviously didn't want to talk about it.

"Who divorced who?"

"Why?"

"I just want to know. I want to know more about you Gene. You come across as this bluff, arrogant know-it-all, when in reality you are the kindest, most compassionate man I have ever known. I can't believe you would have walked away from a broken marriage without a backward glance. And I can't believe you would be unaffected by it. You're not made of stone."

"Part of me is at the moment…"

Alex pinched him hard.

"Ow! What was that for?"

* * *

Alex had given up. When Gene Hunt didn't want to talk there was nothing on God's earth that would change his mind. Stubborn bastard. As she lay in the silent darkness, the beat of his heart beneath her cheek lulled her with its steady rhythm. Images of a faceless woman wrapping herself seductively around him drifted through her mind as she succumbed to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

"You snore."

"I do not!" Alex snorted indignantly, then grimaced as a chuckle rumbled deep inside Gene's chest like a distant earthquake. Shifting slightly, she raised her head a little as Gene moved beneath her, stretching cramped muscles, joints popping into place. "It's been a long time since I spent the night in the back of a car," he groaned, "and I'm starting to realise why. It's more comfortable in one of Viv's cells!"

"Do you want me to move?"

Gene's grip around her waist tightened. "No Alex. I don't want you to move. I want you to stay right where you are."

Light was bleeding into the car through the crystallised windows and glinting off his sharp eyes as they met hers in the muted dimness. Finally it was morning. Propping herself up on Gene's chest, Alex could see him for the first time in many hours. The night was over. Soon it would be time to return to reality. Reality?

"What about you?" Gene continued to hold her gaze.

"What? What about me?" Alex was confused.

"Have you ever been in love?"

Alex's eyes slid from his as she contemplated his query. She focused on a tiny patch of blue shining through the smallest chink in the snow covering the rear window. A bright new day. Had she ever been in love? Good question.

"I thought I was in love once. With Molly's father." She returned to Gene's steady regard and continued. "It felt like love at the time. I wouldn't have married him otherwise. But it wasn't. I think it was just loneliness. My family had died and so I wanted to make a new one all of my own." She laughed bitterly. "Look how successful that turned out to be." Gene reached up and gently brushed away the tear she hadn't realised was rolling down her cheek. "I'm not crying because I loved him," she snapped angrily. "I'm crying because I'm so bloody pissed off with myself for trusting an obvious wanker." She sniffed furiously and swiped at the fresh tears.

"You got Molly out of it though, Alex. Your daughter." Gene spoke quietly, continuing to watch her intently.

Alex smiled to herself. "Yes, Molly. I have Molly. And in answer to your original question," she continued. "no. I have never been in love before." She dipped her head towards him and brushed her lips lightly across his without breaking eye contact.

"Before?"

"I'm sorry?" Alex was puzzled.

"You said 'before'. Before what?"

"Well," she stammered slightly, colour tinting her pale cheeks. "Well, in the past I mean. I haven't been in love in the past."

"What about the present?" Gene refused to allow her any space to hide. "What about now Alex. Are you in love now?"

Outside, the panicked call of a blackbird could be heard cutting through brittle morning air, startled by an unseen threat. Alex contemplated the man beneath her. His grey eyes were narrowed in concentration and his lips were pursed in their customary pout. Large warm hands held her gently but firmly in place as he waited for her answer. Did she love him?

"Yes."

Gene released the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"What about you Gene? Are you in love?"

Gene Hunt paused for a moment before opening his mouth to answer. Suddenly the door to the Quattro flung open, flooding the interior with bright, icy light. Chris Skelton's head appeared above them, a horrified look of embarrassment on his face as he processed the scene before him. "Are they in there or not?" Ray Carling's curly haired head joined Chris's in the car. "Bloody hell!" They glanced at each other, then back at their superior officers lying tangled together on the back seat. Alex closed her eyes. Maybe if she couldn't see them, then they couldn't see her.

Chris cleared his throat nervously. "Sorry boss. Guv. Erm…."

Gene growled at them. "Get out of here Christopher. And you Ray. Now!" They swiftly disappeared. "And close that bloody door!"

The door slammed and Chris and Ray retreated, crunching through the snow arguing with each other.

Gene turned back to Alex. "Where were we?"

"I asked you a question. I'm waiting for the answer." Looking at Gene, she calmed, the flush of embarrassment subsiding as she waited for him to speak.

"Yes." And he kissed her.

* * *

_That's it! Sorry it took so long! Writer's block hit and my mind was blank. Then it snowed and the blockage cleared. Hope you enjoyed it!_


End file.
